Three Hermits by Nels Andrews

I was on my way back to Brooklyn from a wake in Manhattan,late one night being a little syrupy with my reflexes, i tripped on a stack of books someone had left out on the street, I fumbled down and picked up a book of poems by yeats, and opened to this page, a really lyrical meditation on life. It haunted me for weeks until a melody kinda came all at once.